


Extra chapter (excerpt from a full story)

by MalfoyManorsLawnFlamingo



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice (Cartoon 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:35:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29471808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalfoyManorsLawnFlamingo/pseuds/MalfoyManorsLawnFlamingo
Summary: This is basically a test because I plan on completing and fully revising the fic I started 10ish years ago. The writing is very unedited, it's pure avalanche of my high school dramatic writing, and I love it. This chapter will be revised as well, as my writing style has changed quite since then, and I'd like to create more content for this fandom. The premise is Reader stuck in the Neitherworld, meets Ghost with the most, 230 chapters of slow burn because I am that bitch. Beetlejuice's supposed to be a mix of both verses (movie and cartoon). So, I apologize in advance, and I hope that you will enjoy my first dramatic smut piece that I have ever written.
Relationships: Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/Reader, Beetlejuice / Female Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	Extra chapter (excerpt from a full story)

**Author's Note:**

> Personal thanks to Beetlejuice fandom that pushed me into digging out this from the maw of my 2010 USB drive graveyard and publishing it. They will be blessed with further fanfiction I work on. Y'all brought this onto yourself.

She opened her eyes and reached for the clock on the night table. It was 3am. 

Slowly turning around she faced a peaceful figure sleeping next to her. It startled her. Expectations of waking up at home, in her own bed seemed more and more impossible. And she didn’t protest. Instead, she took off the cover and prepared to leave the bedroom, hoping he would wake up in few hours. It was more than enjoying talking to him. Never same, never boring, he always had something new for her. She slowly turned one more time and moved off the strand of ashy blond hair from his face, and smiled. 

Once she left he slowly rose from the bed and grinned devilishly.

Few minutes later he found her in the living room, sketchbook in her lap, leaning on one of the cushions on the couch. He tried to move quietly as possible but one floorboard almost gave him away. She obviously had earphones on since she didn’t react on the squeaky noise. The closer he get the pounding on the inside was louder and more intense. How long has it been? Just few hours ago, in bed. She cuddled in her sleep and he could hear it, so near. Beating. But it wasn’t hers this time, it was his own. Its beats even silenced the little voice in his head that stopped him every time. But not now. Only thing she felt was a cold whisper on her neck. “Babes……..” 

And no more ground. 

Music still filled both her body and mind, intoxicating her completely. She looked down just for a moment. Floating an inch from the ground, and he held her tight. She was sure not to fall. Ever again. Spinning in circles, swaying to velvet, soothing sound, away from the world, two pieces of the same mosaic, Life and Death. 

They danced. And it seemed never ending. He still had his lecherous smile but his eyes filled with both lust and tender, as he leaned his head on her shoulder, still holding her gently. Feeling her skin grew warmer she bended her neck to his cold lips. His icy breath made her lose all the sanity she had left. She faced him slowly leaning closer to his lips, but he moved away, turning her around and letting her hand go. She couldn’t do anything but let herself fall light as feather, till she felt his arms around her. Misty scent of dried roses…….. She leaned back, a move that made his maroon shirt open up just a bit more but enough for her to feel his skin on hers. It made her shiver. He grinned again, breathing in the sweet vanilla of her hair, just like the first day. Then again, he turned her now gazing straight in her eyes. She couldn’t read him this time; she was too busy glaring at his green poisonous irises, as the room grew hotter. 

“He’s dead…….. I don’t care…….. Perverted, immoral…….. Who cares...? He’s not to be played with………..You’ll get burned………. I really………. Don’t…… Care………” she thought, slowly undoing his tie. He grabbed her hand. She gave him a sad look, followed with pink tongue slowly wetting her lips. He couldn’t let himself fall any weaker, it was simply a game too hard to resist to. “Do it……. I can’t…….. Take her…….. I shouldn’t………. Make her shiver under your hands…….. You know you want to…………. I really…….. Shouldn’t………” After all, he only wanted to dance with her, didn’t he? He snapped out of his thoughts when her wet lips slid down his neck. Second later, he nailed her to the wall, pressing her against it. He seemed so angry, like he might do something most horrible. 

She turned her head to the side. It was the first time she felt intimidated around him. He leaned closer, breathing heavily, and groaned to her ear “Don’t tease, Babes……… Don’t make me hurt you……..” His hand found its way to her sides, sliding down her leg, then back, but this time under her shirt. “Than do it if you….. Have to……… If you feel like it……….” That felt like a lightning to him. She gasped when she felt his fingernails down her back. That will leave a mark. “I’m…… I didn’t want to…….” She covered his lips with her fingers, and then slid them down to his chest, grabbing him for shirt. “Please……..” she whispered and closed her eyes. 

It was over, he crossed every line, broke every boundary. 

She knew how disturbing and painful this might turn out, but she still wanted him in all his bizarre and wicked ways…… She asked him for it. He held for just a moment more, pressing her a bit rougher. She felt his pulsing on her tights, and despite the voice still convincing her it’s wrong, she pressed back. He shivered and then she felt the soft sheets of his coffin bed underneath her.   
His rough fingers were sliding down her body. He waited this too long, now he had to feel her completely. His maroon shirt quietly fell to the floor, and so did her white one. 

“Now tell me, Babes………….” He gently strolled his fingers trough her dark cinnamon hair “What can I……. do to you?” 

“Well………..” her fingers were pulling the side of his underwear “Anything you like……. Anything………… You can think of.” He grinned. “You have been warned. I could think of many things right now.” He whispered to her again. “Interesting, but filthy things.” “I don’t read warning signs.” His striped tongue covered her neck, chin and finally slid in between her lips. This was the approval he needed. He tasted like sour cherries; old wine, she didn’t want to let it go. Skin to skin, warm and cold, nothing was separating them anymore. 

It felt like he burned every time he touched her. She emanated the heat, but he didn’t let go of her. Gently kissing her until he placed a bite on her neck, listening to her little moans. This was better than he thought, better than he remembered. His hand slid to her tights, but always stopping there and going down her inner side of legs. It was only fair to return her that teasing from before. Even though he felt prepared for anything, once he was inside of her, shock filled him. Electricity speeded up his spine, if it was burning few moments before, now it felt like he was on fire. He lay on her and closed his eyes. He could feel every pulse, blood rushing trough her, felling life pouring inside her body. That aroused him even more, sensation of her very being, all he knew in that moment was how much he wanted……. To make her shiver…… make her ask for more……… Nothing else mattered. 

Dancing again, on bed this time, in a long known embrace, so intimate, so close. Hour passed and one more. For her it felt like forever. Every time he’d stopped there was only a half minute break before he had that sly grin on his lips, kissing her all over again. She could never get tired of that taste, that scent and his gravely moans when he moved inside her. 

Things he’d done, his fingers, his striped tongue making all kinds of ornament shapes on her skin, all of things he said, so deviant to be spoken from anyone but still so enchanting and arousing when coming from him. Painful bites on hers and red stripes from fingernails on his skin, he let go of all ropes holding him back and unleashed a fire once again lit after hundreds of years.

As rain poured on the window pane, and night faded, in the bittersweet embrace of Death, she never felt more Alive….


End file.
